


Cats in the Storm

by locusinbloom (Fractual_Visions)



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Breathplay, Car Sex, Consensual Forced Blow Job, F/M, Human Pet, Light BDSM, Lokitty, Piggyback Rides, Rape Fantasy, Rough Sex, Underwater Blow Jobs, community: naughtylokiconfessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:58:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1189449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fractual_Visions/pseuds/locusinbloom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You want to be bound to my will. To be used for my pleasure. To kneel for the god of chaos, to be subjugated, humiliated, forced to submit. Tell me I am wrong. Bid me to leave."</p><p>"Please," you whispered.</p><p>Loki stepped back and wordlessly moved for the door, misinterpreting or, perhaps, playing that he did. You did the the only thing you could imagine, diving to the floor and grasping Loki around the knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cats in the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the [Naughty Loki Confessions](http://naughtylokiconfessions.tumblr.com) blog of which I am a devoted follower.

With the coming of spring, the storms had come down the mountain, as every year, bringing the rain.

It was mid-afternoon and the sky was a lonely malevolent grey. From your front window, you had a clear view. The wind lashed inside through the open screen door, sliced into pieces by the tiny wires and tumbling back together with a frustrated scream, like Manhattan rush traffic on a Friday. A misty dampness permeated everything, too warm to be cold, too chilled to be warm. It made you think of dark caves and swamps.

A gaunt kitty on your front porch had tucked itself under a deck chair, trying to ward off the droplets. Such a pretty cat, jet black with streaks of silver, one blue eye, one green. You wanted to bring it inside and cuddle it, stroke the fur which pointed in skewed angles until it lay smooth and flat. Kiss the tiny pink nose. Get bitten for your troubles, probably. The cat glared mistrustfully at the whole world and hunkered down further into its deck chair cave.

With nothing else to do today, you had curled into a cozy chair with a blanket and a warm beverage, reading fanfiction. It was peaceful and comfortable and you were happy.

Hours passed and the sky darkened to coal dust black lit by the purple highlights of sunset. The rain was coming down in earnest, heavy sheets, blown at times almost vertical. The porch swing was banging rhythmically against the railing, a counterpoint to the wall-shaking booms of thunder.

Kitty was still wedged into her spot, getting periodically drenched. You opened the door and called to her, but she refused to move. The cat had no collar. There was nobody you could call to retrieve it. After a few minutes, you conceded defeat and returned to your chair, sad for the kitty. You settled your head back and the storm lulled you closer and closer to sleep.

Bam! The noise of the screen door slamming against the wall had your body jacking from the chair to beat your eyes in the race to open.

Your open eyes were blinded by a flash of lightning. In the afterglow, the silhouette in the doorway was a hole ripped in space, two curved horns cutting negatives into the sky, below that, a slim figure whose trench coat was just visible at the bottom edge, where water sluiced down it, creating a single huge puddle on the floor which reflected the light of the sky. Your eyes had adjusted by the time they reached the top again, enough to see glowing eyes turned steel blue by the light of the storm.

The power had gone out on your block. Your cozy house had turned into a den of looming dark objects. You wanted to run but your joints had frozen like ice in their sockets. Loki stepped forward and grasped you by the back of the neck, pulling you into his embrace.

He touched a single finger to his lips, hushing the words you were groping for. You fell silent and acquiescent in his arms.

His arms were thin and braided tight with muscle. His hand was smooth and cold on your neck, but his torso was warm where it pressed against yours. He smelled like rotting earth, fresh and heady and sweet. The water from his drenched armour soaked instantly through the front of your clothes and even that was warm and comfortable.

His lips were thin; the lower slotted perfectly between yours. With the upper, he sucked your mouth into a precise, lingering ablution, laving the underside of your upper lip in erotic strokes from teeth to tip. He slipped further in, tongue flicking up to lick the back of your teeth, then to rub sinuously over the hard palate, finally curling around your tongue in a mind melting embrace. You licked the underside of his tongue and moaned. He tasted like he smelled, cool, sweet, a naked morning run through the forest with the undergrowth whipping into you on every side. You rubbed shamelessly against Loki, a moment more and you would cum.

He pulled back, settling lingering light kisses as he went.

"Am I dreaming?" You asked dazedly.

Loki smiled, all teeth and dark joy. “Am I in your dreams, little one?”

"Yes," you breathed. "Every night." It was an exaggeration, but not by much.

"Do you know that I have read your confessions? Your secret locked journals, your private fantasies? Does this bother you?"

How you had longed for Loki to see your innermost desires, your fears, your longing. That he had, oh, that he had… “No. I wanted you to see who I am. My… my devotion to you.”

"You want to be bound to my will. To be used for my pleasure. To kneel for the god of chaos, to be subjugated, humiliated, forced to submit. Tell me I am wrong. Bid me to leave."

"Please," you whispered.

Loki stepped back and wordlessly moved for the door, misinterpreting or, perhaps, playing that he did. You did the the only thing you could imagine, diving to the floor and grasping Loki around the knees.

"Please don’t leave!"

"Ah." He looked down at you. "You do desire to be taken."

Loki beckoned to the open door. “Come with me.”

The search for an umbrella and rain poncho was interrupted by his iron grip on your wrist. “As you are. You are going to get wet. You are going to get absolutely filthy.”

The few steps to his car—a Jaguar and you weren’t jealous, not at all—turned your t-shirt and jeans into a swimsuit. You were soaked to your very underwear. The drive took over an hour, out of town and into the mountains to a little known nature park. Loki kept the heater on high. Your clothes dried a bit. The main park closed at dusk, but the campground, just opened for the season and practically deserted, had no gate. He pulled into an empty space.

You stayed in the passenger seat until Loki opened your door and pulled you out, back into the rain. The trees, budding with fresh foliage, provided shelter. Only enough that your soaking took longer, a slow languorous drenching of warm water flooding your shoulders and trailing down your spine and over your breasts, under your belt and into your panties, streaking down your thighs and calves.

Loki crouched in front of you.

"Up," he commanded. "Ride."

You hesitated only a minute, then mounted his back. The leather was slick and slippery, but his hands on your thighs were strong. He hoisted you easily and set off down a mountain trail with sure, easy steps. You had not gotten a piggy ride since you were a small child. The feeling was deeply intimate. You were safe and comfortable, arms wrapped securely around his shoulders, ass cradled gently on his hips. As testament to Loki’s strength, he did not stoop forward but carried you upright, as one might carry a light bookbag.

Your hike was followed by a huge number of animals, drawn to Loki’s presence. Deer, squirrels, snakes, even a brown bear, braving the storm to see a god of woodland seiðr.

Without moonlight to penetrate the dense clouds, the mountain lake was utterly dark and eerie.

"Here." Loki swung you tenderly to the grass covered mud. "Here I am going to violate your body as you have dreamed. Any second thoughts?"

He stood, an otherworldly presence over your supine form, your every dirty fantasy incarnate. “No. No second thoughts.” In the darkness, the words came easy. “I want to serve you.”

"Strip."

With only the vaguest unease (you were in a public location, never mind that the chance of being seen was nil), you peeled out of muddy clothes. Loki stepped nearer the lake.

"Come here."

You began to rise.

"No. On your stomach."

You discovered that by use of an undulating motion you could avoid sharp rocks and stubbly grass. The mud on your skin was at first unpleasant, then became a bit sensual and even playful.

"Humiliated?"

You smiled. “A bit.”

"There is worse awaiting you. Beg to suck me."

"Please, Loki, let me suck you."

"Do better."

"I really want to have your penis in my mouth. Please allow me?"

"Cruder." He smiled very slowly, wickedly, victorious.

"Loki, please. I would like"—you flushed—"to swallow your cock and suck until you come in my mouth."

Loki stared down impassively. “Cruder.”

You squirmed. How could you possibly voice the most private words of your most personal fantasies? You squeezed your eyes shut.

"No hiding. Meet my eyes and beg. Now."

You forced your eyes to his interested stare. Real humiliation? Well, you had asked for it. “I want… you to… fuck my mouth like a cunt; take it for your pleasure. Make me gag on your cock. Come down my throat or… paint your cum on my face. Please, Loki! Please don’t make me ask again.”

"Oh, beautiful," he praised. "I knew you could."

You felt boneless with pleasure. The praised stroked something vulnerable and sweet inside of you.

"Kneel."

You gratefully complied, relieving the strain of craning your head up. Loki withdrew a slender studded collar and belted it around your neck. To this, he clipped a leash, which he threw to the ground and captured under his boot. You felt the subtle pressure on your neck, when he flexed his ankle. Loki unzipped his pants before your face, one tooth at a time, building unbearable tension. He slowly parted the leather flaps, reached in with one hand and drew out his hard staff.

It was modest. You had the swift impression of it rubbing warm, slickly over your lips, then ramming in, up to the pubes, and you had ample reason to be grateful for the size. He pulled out.

"You okay?"

You nodded breathlessly. Surprised, yes, but basically okay. Loki nodded, breathing a little erratically himself. He pushed back in, down into your throat, and you couldn’t breath. You licked and sucked enthusiastically until the lack of oxygen caused you to begin struggling. He released you immediately, to your disappointment. It was just reflex, you assured him. You could take more.

"Oh, yes," he moaned, smile like gold. "I am going to make you cry."

He made good. Riding your face until you were choking with every breath, involuntary tears mixing with the rain pouring down your face, thrashing to get free. When it all finally became too much, you dug fingernails like claws into his hips. His irresistible grip slackened, allowing you to pull back, just the head resting lightly on your lips. He trailed gentle fingers over your cheeks.

"Would you like to go swimming, little pet?"

The opaque surface of the water moved in dark ripples. Evil creatures lurked under the surface, waiting to snack on nighttime visitors. Creepy noises manifested the presence of netherworld spirits.

"Er, no." You shivered.

Loki guided you to your feet and cradled your mud caked form in a tender embrace. “I will protect you,” he whispered. “Let me protect you.”

You let out a long sigh. Trust was a big issue with you, but you did trust Loki. More than any other person. “Okay.”

This location was ideal for swimming. Just ending winter chilled the water, but the outlet of a nearby hot spring mixed jets of hot water with the cold in an invigorating mixture. The delicious crisp mountain air blended arousingly with the limestone and sulfuric smell of the spring. Loki disrobed and settled on a submerged rock, chest and head exposed. He leaned back on a fallen log, all elegant lines and dark grace, lips parted seductively.

"I notice that I have yet to reach my climax. Are you neglecting your duties, slut?"

"N-noo. What do I do?"

"Can you breath underwater?"

"What? No!"

"Unfortunate shortcoming of humans. Oh! I could transform you into a fish… I think I could."

"Uh, no thanks! I like my own form, actually."

"Pity. I like having sex with fish."

"That was more information than I needed." You shuddered. "I think I could do it anyway. If I take breaks to breathe."

By slipping beneath the water, you entered an underworld. Dream-like shapes—fish or aqueous plants—floated in the corners of your eyes, sounds lengthened and distorted, moss from the rock bed smeared on your legs like an alien creature. Your own body felt like a dream you would soon wake from. Before your face, Loki’s spread thighs, his hard cock. You mouthed it reverently, made by your desire softly submissive to the core, connected to his pleasure as to your own limbs.

You floated to the surface, took a slow inhale, exhale, inhale, dived under again. His hands stayed resolutely at his sides. The shifting of his hips, the pulsing under your tongue told all. Up again and back under. The heavens emptying above and the lake swirling below drew no line between them. You were lost in a primal birth of water, no umbilical cord but the blood-heavy velvet of Loki’s bowsprit. You held to it for survival. Lick, suck, swallow. No movement but the sharp tightening of his abdomen signaled his orgasm. You latched on, mouth to head, and sucked down each drop.

Loki pulled you from the water by your hair, settled you in his lap. His long insistent tongue lapped the semen from your mouth and his hands ran in long satiated strokes down your ribs and the ridges of your spine.

"Ready to go back?" He asked solicitously.

"Yeah, I am." You felt too boneless to move. "We should come back sometime. In the summer, go swimming or rafting."

Loki smiled gently, wistfully. “Yes. Perhaps.”

He banished away your muddy clothes, dressing you in his coat: very wet outside, but strangely dry and warm within, and long enough to drag at your ankles. He ferried you on his naked back, his feet making quiet squelches in the damp leaves. The rain lightened.

The car was visible only by gleaming highlights on the roof and hood. As you neared it, Loki slung you into a front carry and pressed you into its slick, cool surface as he unlocked the door. Tiny sprays of mud marred the immaculately clean metal; you trailed a foot through one.

He lowered your full grown body into the backseat with the careful ease of setting down a baby.

"I had not forgotten," He licked his palm and spread the saliva on your face, "that you have not found release.

"How shall I show appreciation for my pretty nympho? Ah, but I forgot"—his smile said he had done no such thing—"you aren’t interested in being gratified at my hand. Being sweetly touched and teased into delightful orgasm is not what you crave. I would not want you to believe this a tryst between lovers, between equals."

Loki’s full armour melted onto his naked skin, sans his coat, igniting a painfully sharp lust that you could feel in your fingernails and the roots of your teeth.

"I am going to pierce your body on my iron and screw you until I am entirely satisfied. Use your cunt as a hole to collect my issue. Subject you to degradation for my amusement. As to your enjoyment, what is that beautiful Midgardian expression?" He put a finger to his mouth and tilted his head up, a playful mockery of being in thought. "Oh, yes: I don’t give a fuck. Is that nearer the mark?"

Your fluid was pooling beneath you, making a puddle on Loki’s jacket. “Oh, God, yes!”

"Use your hands and spread your quim. I want to see." He sneered. "Do you have anything worth offering your King?"

Acutely humiliated, you stretched open your labia before Loki’s eyes.

"Acceptable. Barely." He backhanded the tender flesh. You yelped, more surprised than hurt.

He entered the backseat, crowded close that his helmet would not snag on the roof of the car. His wet leather dragged over every inch of your exposed body. Bracing his weight on his shoulder (which rested on your chest), he used both hands to enter you. One pinched open your sensitive parts. The other grasped his cock and shoved it in.

"No mercy. Go on, you whimpering trollop. Struggle. I know you long to do so."

Hesitantly, you laid hands on his chest plate and pushed up. It moved as much as a brick wall. Emboldened, you began to thrash in earnest, fighting to free yourself from the cock inside you. It heightened every sensation exquisitely.

"Give voice to your reluctance. Do you think you can stop me? Test me, slut. I am inside you, do you feel it splitting you? You cannot escape. You are so dearly helpless."

"Loki!" A deep moan ripped from your very chest, his words sparking orgasm, coming so hard that tears pricked your eyes.

He paused. “Shall I stop?”

"No." You moaned. "I want you to… do those things you said. Make me serve you."

Reaching to the front seat, Loki flipped on the tape deck, jacking the volume to overwhelm you with Swedish House Mafia’s One. In the rhythm, he balanced on his knees against the leather, feet still in the mud outside, rocked the car on the force of his thrusts. While he raked nails over your breasts and smiled with an unholy light in his gleaming eyes. His hand fisted in the lead, pulling your collar as one brings an exuberant dog to heel.

"Take it, you dirty bitch. My perfect cum slut, give it up for Loki of Asgard. Scream for me, pet. Scream. For. Me!"

You grabbed his horns, pulling with the force to raise your shoulders from the seat, from Loki, a single muffled grunt the only acknowledgement of your weight. He dug his knuckles into your inner thighs, massaging inward at every thrust, bent to latch on a tender nipple. You screamed for him.

Loki lowered you and pulled out.

"Last chance," Loki panted. "Say no before I wash your face with my seed."

"Hell, yeah, do it!" You were beyond any shame.

Loki bent himself double, knees below your shoulders, and released his tight grip on the base of his cock. Vitality was apparently not a virtue restricted to fertility gods; your face was not merely streaked. Loki drenched you. It leaked down your neck and into your hair. Loki brought out an animal you had never shown to any man and you absolutely loved it. You licked your lips and when he fed you more on his fingers, you licked that too, happy as a cat in the cream.

 

Back safe and clean in your living room, Loki pressed you into your comfy chair and tucked you in. “Rest. Go back to sleep. Wake to pleasant memories.”

You nodded sleepily, obediently, and drifted off peacefully.

When you woke later, the storm had dissipated, the moon was shining brightly in the window, the power had come back on. And there was curled, warm and dry on your lap, the little black kitty from the front porch. Wearing a tiny collar, black leather studded with emeralds, just like yours.


End file.
